Fire and Ice
by Lear's Daughter
Summary: Written for the Fire and Ice challenge at Demented Allure. Gotta love it when I can use my favorite poem in a fic! A little MR, but nothing much. A little drabble.


Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or anything owned by the estate of Robert Frost.

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_Some say the world will end in fire_

Her heart pumps hard as she runs, struggling to provide much-needed oxygen to her brain. She leaps over a tree branch and narrowly avoids a protruding branch, its end sharp and jagged. It leaves a thin scratch across her otherwise unmarked cheek.

_Some say ice_

She can hear him behind her, his quick strides covering the ground more quickly and loudly. He is shouting something, but she doesn't listen, can't allow herself to hear. The earth seems to shudder beneath his feet with each step he takes. She puts on an extra burst of speed, extending her lead and knowing that she is almost to her target.

_From what I've tasted of desire_

She knows she has reached her destination when strong hands catch her about the midsection, pulling her close to a warm, hard body. She is sweating, but he doesn't care as he caresses the side of her face, his eyes cold and steely and slightly dilated. His thumb brushes over her parted lips, and she feels her breath catch as the pull of her powers begins. He takes his hand away before it can become too strong.

_I hold with those who favor fire_

They turn in tandem to face the path she has trodden, waiting for her pursuer to appear. The moment before he does, she nods to the man—still a boy, really—crouching across the clearing from them, and his eyes light in excitement. The moment the other boy emerges from the shadowed woods, he throws a fireball at him and knocks him into a tree. She can smell the smoke even though it clearly dissolves into the surrounding air.

_But if it had to perish twice_

She has some doubts about the wisdom of this idea. Even though she must admit that her lover knows more about warfare than she does, she knows, too, that she is much better at understanding how people think. She worries that this is not the best option for anyone, and that their plan will backfire. Then his hands entwine with her gloved fingers, his grip firm and reassuring, and she allows herself to relax against him. Her part in this is done. He will not let the plan go too awry.

_I think I know enough of hate_

When she looks at the boy who had been her pursuer, when she watches him push himself unsteadily to his feet, a burn on the side of his chest glistening where the fabric of his uniform was melted away, she feels only sadness. They had been close, once. Once, she had thought that she loved him. When he chased her now, though, it was not as a boy chases a girl, but as a hero chases a villain. When he looks at her now, his eyes show only hate. When he looks at his opponent, his lip curls in hate. She almost shudders at the intensity of it.

_To say that for destruction ice_

When they stand off now, it is clear as it was many months ago that they are nearly evenly matched now that the element of surprise is gone. They exchange a fireball and a ball of ice, and, more painful and dangerous by far, cutting words. She stiffens at some of the names that he calls them, because she has heard them before, but never from a fellow mutant. She is not hurt; she is outraged. It is impossible to tell whether her lover has stiffened as well, because his posture ever since she arrived has been taught as a string pulled tight.

_Is also great_

At last, her pursuer breaks through his opponent's guard with a well-placed shard of ice, and Pyro goes down, clutching the deep wound in his side. She winces inwardly, and admits to herself that what she had feared has come true—though he is stalwart of spirit and absolutely dedicated to the use of his powers, Pyro is simply not quite as good as Bobby. Bobby turns to them, his cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of his victory, and this once she acts as her lover's protector standing defiantly in front of him as she silently dares the boy to do it. Small balls of metal hover silently along the edges of the clearing, directed by her silent will as she uses Magneto's powers, and she stares at her ex-boyfriend evenly, prepared to kill him if he tenses himself to strike. Before either moves, a great heat fills the clearing, and Bobby only has time to turn to face the immense fireball that moves towards him and to fling an icicle in response before he is engulfed in flames. When the smoke clears, they see that Pyro is down, too, stabbed through the heart by the long, thick piece of ice.

With a quiet word, Magneto turns off the simulation device, and the forest around them disappears. Bobby disappears, too. Pyro sits up, rubbing his shoulder where the icicle would have hit if it had been real.

"Bobby is better," Rogue says quietly, watching him to make sure he understands her words.

He nods curtly, his motions jerky and angry as he turns fierce eyes on her. "I can beat him," he insists, palms clenched around his trusty lighter. He would be lost if it was ever taken from him.

"Then do so," Magneto says, using one hand to wave the simulation back into action, still holding her with his other. He looks down at her, his expression hungry and proud. "And you, my dear…well done."

She smiles back at him, and he just has time to brush her lips with a kiss before she has to go back to her starting position, and once again, the race is on.

_And would suffice_.


End file.
